


A Touch of Sin

by Carmilla_Dilaurentis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Azkaban and its consequences, BDSM, Bellamort, Bittersweet, Canon Compliant, F/M, Hair shave, I am not a native speaker, Mental Domination, Mind Games, Narcissa is not having fun either, Please don't be too harsh, Post-Azkaban, don't do this at home ok, mental issues, non-sexual bdsm, not very sane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:34:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23600896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carmilla_Dilaurentis/pseuds/Carmilla_Dilaurentis
Summary: After Azkaban, Bellatrix has gone barking mad, Rodolphus is barely any better, and it's up to Narcissa to clean up the mess.One day, Bella decides to shave off her entire hair for no apparent reason. They both try to help her, in their own ways.An exploration of insanity and the relationship between these characters, as well as with Voldemort.
Relationships: Bellatrix Black Lestrange & Narcissa Black Malfoy, Bellatrix Black Lestrange & Rodolphus Lestrange, Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Voldemort, Rodolphus Lestrange & Narcissa Black Malfoy
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	A Touch of Sin

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone,  
> The title has nothing to do with the movie, which I haven't watched yet. I just thought it was a beautiful title, and very fitting here.  
> A big thanks to @TheArtfulDodger for beta reading ! :)

She would get up at any time, eat like a horse, scream for Narcissa's presence, or more rarely that of her husband or brother-in-law. She would kill a field rat or two, laugh out loud, turn round and round in the garden. She mortified her sister, all the more so because nothing could be said to the Most Loyal of Them All. She would go back to bed, to better wake up the house at three in the morning with an awful racket, chasing house elves all over the manor. Then, out of breath, she'd fall asleep in the middle of the living room. 

Narcissa had found her slumped over a chair. She wasn’t sat in it, she had put her head on the seat as if it were a cushion. Her body had a broken position, one arm under her forehead and the other hanging at a strange angle.  
And she had shaved her hair.  
Her mane was dragging on the floor, a rabid little sheep, scattered in several places on the carpet. After weeks of care, creams and ointments to fill in the wrinkles and crevices, she had gotten good results. The hair, on the other hand, resisted all treatment. Its curly nature made it impossible to untangle. Bellatrix had adopted a radical method to get rid of this big ball of hair.  
Narcissa approached her.  
"Bella... Bella... please wake up"  
“...”  
"Come on, you're going to get a stiff neck here."  
"A what?"  
"Neck pain. At least really sleep in the chair. If you want, I'll help you sit on it properly.”  
"No... good here"  
Narcissa thinks to herself that she has to pick her battles, and that after all, it would be hard luck for her if her neck gets stuck for three days. That will teach her to sleep anywhere!  
She would ask her more questions about her hair later. The choice was both rational and alarming: Bellatrix had always been so proud of her hair. Was it a revival? Or a form of self-harm? 

"Rod! Rod! Please come here!”  
A haggard, skeletal figure arrived two minutes later.  
"I got your Patronus... what's wrong with her?"  
His soft tone did not allow her to guess if he had drunk too much, slept poorly or if he thought he was in a dream. So feisty before his arrest, he had become very placid, to the point where Narcissa wondered if he would survive the next battle.  
"She's going to break her neck, and look at her hair!”  
He's smiling, like an idiot.  
"I sleep like that sometimes too, Narcissa... I'm more discreet than she is."  
She glared at him, with his enabling attitude that encouraged Bella not to take enough care of herself.  
"Let me handle the situation, I know just what to do," he laughed hysterically, unsteadily, exasperating Narcissa. “Did you really think I had a bed in Azkaban? And that an old habit could die so easily?”  
She felt a bit ashamed of herself.  
Nevertheless, unpredictable as he was, she didn't know whether to trust him with anything. He would never willfully harm his darling wife, but an accident can happen in the blink of an eye. Nor could she send him away. You don't dismiss someone who has spent a lifetime in a filthy prison. Someone who understands better than her, who has been pampered forever, how an abused brain works. 

"Bella? May I?”  
"Mmm... Rod?"  
"Yes, it's me.”  
He brought his torso close to his wife's head, so that she would move from the seat towards him. 

When she comes into contact with him, she becomes agitated; her eyes closed, her face tensed. Her lips open, as if to scream, but she cannot. He holds her against him, until she feels that he is not going to hurt her.  
Then he places his hands around her cheeks, wrapping them in a comforting warmth. When she has put her full weight on his chest, he lays her down so that she ends up with her head on his lap.  
He lays his cloak over her.  
He whispers, "It's going to be okay, Bella... soon you'll be able to go back to the battlefield.. Ah, you're going to blow their minds! Dumbledore's going to have a heart attack. Soon you will be able to return to our Master.”  
Narcissa was a little uncomfortable with his last words. She had never known how Rodolphus tolerated, or not, her relationship with their Master. It was typically the kind of thorny conversation that her upbringing as a Pureblood woman had taught her to avoid, gracefully please. Clearly, he was not disturbed. Or was it just to appease her? It was rumoured Rodolphus preferred men... Either that, or he really wasn't possessive at all. 

Bellatrix was very humiliated the day she returned to him. Handsome, powerful, in His superhuman body, while she crumbled at every step, dirty, trembling with cold. She stuttered as she pronounced his name -absolute shame. She had cried about it several times in front of Narcissa. "I don't want him to see me like this, do you understand?” 

The first few days, it was five baths in a row to get the grime out. She watched the grayish water leave the bathtub with a kind of perverse satisfaction, like popping an acne pimple.  
Not enough for her. Narcissa prayed that she wouldn't regret what she had done to her beloved hair, and that she wouldn't wake up with yet another crying fit. 

"So, my Bella, why did you do this?”  
"Ugly... too ugly...”  
His voice was lost in a sigh. She had the smile of a blessed woman. It seemed as if this haircut had had a cathartic effect. Her lips twisted on their own, in a whisper, an indistinct smile, as if she were talking to a childhood friend.  
"All right," he said. “Your sister's here, would you mind giving her your hand?”  
Belltrix shrugged her shoulders but gave it anyway to a vaguely offended sister. With this new Bella, she never knew what to expect.  
She took both of her hands, petting them. A house elf brought her an ointment and gave her a hand massage, hoping it would bring her back to earth.  
"Never, never has she had her hair so short... even when she was locked up they didn't cut it, although I was afraid they would use it to humiliate her... I'm sure that with a few more products..."  
Rodolphus waved his hand, immediately stopping her.  
He whispered.  
"Yes, in three months... she wants to see Him again as soon as possible. She can't wait any longer. She wants results. _This is a result_ ," he concluded, pointing to the hair on the carpet.  
"If she regrets it afterwards, I'll give her some potions to make it grow back faster... or a wig... or anything else that makes her feel ready to show herself to Him again. »  
"You're already doing that, Cissa."  
"Oh?"  
"You're pampering her, you're holding her hand. You can't do anything more.”  
Narcissa suddenly feels soothed. It's been two months of her efforts not being recognized, hardly noticed. She's the crazy girl's sister, so automatically it's up to her to do everything, isn’t it?  
She started touching her sister's skull. 

She has never touched hair so short, almost brush hair, both rough at the tip and soft on the shaft. She feels more like she's petting a doggie. Maybe she's right: they'll grow back healthier, real curls, not a mess.

Suddenly, Bellatrix gets up, alerted by an underground noise. His head is shaking, beset by an invisible disturbance.  
"Bella? What's the matter with you? Are you thirsty? Hungry? I'll call the elf if you... "  
"No."  
She uncovers her sleeve, and before Narcissa can stop her, she presses down on her Mark.  
"You're insane!”  
Narcissa is not afraid to say the word anymore. She spits it out with a satisfaction proportional to the time she had to wait to utter it. She's been holding back for months. Not to drive her sister mental with rage. Do not utter the fatal word. Don't provoke her. Defend her whenever she hears someone call her that. Don't reinforce her in these absurd behaviours. But enough is enough. 

For the first time since she joined the world of the Death eaters, she really fears for her physical safety. Not having taken the Mark herself, she is not risking anything a priori if she doesn't show betrayal -which is not likely to happen. Today, she is technically in the presence of two lunatics. She should have been more careful. This whole thing is going to fall on her. Disturbing the Master for... for what, by the way?  
"Aren't you ashamed to bother Him on a whim?”  
"I don't bother him...”  
"How can you be so sure?"  
Bellatrix stands up as she can, sits down decently.  
Narcissa panics all the more.  
"There must be a way to backpedal! Rod! Do something!”  
"There's nothing I can do, Narcissa. He'll be here soon.”  
He seems so calm. Is it because he knows the punishment is inevitable? Narcissa is trembling. That'll teach her to take care of her family. If she get crucioed, she'll make her pay for it later. 

He's been watching them for a while. He was already staring when Bellatrix shaved her head. He had been thinking for some time about planting a crazy idea in her head, so that she would stop going around in circles. No mind magic, it would be too dangerous; something else. He didn't need it, the lioness found a way out of her cage all by herself.  
He is fascinated by Narcissa, whose emotions read like an open book. Right now, she would kill for her sister as much as she would kill her. 

Rodolphus... one of the most faithful. One of the best. He knows he shouldn't be jealous. Rodolphus will never be attracted to his wife, no matter how beautiful she is. He knows that at night they sleep together, like children huddling together after a nightmare, Nagini told him so. He knows that Rod's kisses and pettings are as chaste as those of Narcissa. He finds himself ridiculous, wasting his time spying on them. Watching Bella, who gets progressively lost if he is not there to give her orders or to take her against a wall. But she wants to be presentable before she shows herself to him again. A genuine vicious circle. 

Then he can observe how the others do it, the weak, the mortal. What strange and sentimental little gestures they make to console themselves, or give themselves the illusion of mastering their destiny. He's been learning in the shadows for months.  
He could join them, and stoop to caressing Bellatrix's hair, what's left of it. But he's Lord Voldemort, not some common Tom Riddle.  
He's angry with Bellatrix for calling him. She's ruined everything. Narcissa is tense, Rodolphus has resolved his inner conflict by falling in a daze.  
He's bored for a few minutes, until it is credible for him to appear. 

By the time he walks in, they're already down, just tilting their heads forward, eyes glued to the ground.  
"All of you. Get out of here. Except Bellatrix.”  
Narcissa holds back from sighing with great difficulty. Rodolphus, for his part, does not hide his disappointment at having to extricate himself from his Master's presence.  
Bella looks at the ground, perfectly calm. She hasn't premeditated anything, he has seen with what spontaneity she has cut it all off.  
"Bellatrix."  
"Master! I am so honored to...”  
"Why did you call me?”  
"I'm ready."  
"To what?"  
"Be at your service."  
He makes sure her eyes are closed, with a light finger on the eyelid. She smiles slightly. She wouldn't have allowed herself to look at him before his signal.

This is the paradox of the master of Legilimency. Bellatrix was a model pupil of Occlumency; even after Azkaban, it would be impossible for him to know what she is thinking without breaking her mind beyond repair. Protecting her mind became second nature. He can now only observe her in her natural condition, with the abandonment characteristic of one who believes themselves to be on their own. He feels like the explorers of the days of old, except he does not need binoculars. 

He mimics Rodolphus’ gestures. He puts his finger on her cheek, taking care not to press on her scars. He hates the idea of having to learn something from a follower. However, he cannot lose Bellatrix. He must reward the loyalty of his followers, otherwise it is clear that there will be many defections. She is effective, his greatest warrior; and, in the days when the madness of the Blacks was still contained within her, quite entertaining. 

He also needs someone to chat with or share his bed when he gets bored, a problem that has become more pronounced with this new body: he needs less sleep or food, which frees up very long hours in the day. He is not interested in any of the young girls who clumsily hang around him at Pure Blood evenings, he doesn't even remember their names. He wants nothing less than total devotion, and no nineteen years old foolish girl will be able to give it to him.  
She cared for his hair like the apple of his eye, and shaved it off to see him sooner. That deserves a little indulgence. 

He lowers himself to her level. The absence of hair confuses him. The last time he touched her, so many years ago, he had taken pleasure in pulling them a little too hard during their frolic, and she asked for more. Now she looks a bit like him. He brushes off that thought. 

He has better access to her neck. He touches every inch of the skin there, in the open. She holds back from shivering. He knows that she loves to be the center of his attention more than anything else, that at this moment he could strip her with a spell, take her on this carpet, a meter away from her hair, and she would thank him. 

He fights against what is left of his animal instincts. He can't let her think he is at her service. He will help her regain her health, but not at the cost of his status. He can't indulge in pleasure for no particular reason. He's not bored enough for that, she hasn't accomplished anything special. He simply encourages her, creates a stimulus for her to continue along this path. 

He gets up. Seen from above, she looks so fragile, her body still thin.  
"Well, Bellatrix, I see your health is returning to you... next time we shall see each other again."  
As soon as she thinks she is alone, she makes her hair disappear with a wave of her wand and sits at the window to feel the rays of spring on her skin. She takes a deep breath, a sincere smile on her lips. In the sun, her skin glistens, a little snake waking up. He would like to join her. He turns away firmly from her. He's got a lot to do. He will have plenty of time tomorrow to look at her.

**Author's Note:**

> I you have made it till here, thank you !  
> I hope you enjoyed.  
> If you did, a review or a kudo would truly brighten up my day :)


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